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Historic Landmarks of the Shenandoah valley 


Beauty and History 

IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF 

WASHINGTON, STONEWALL JACKSON 

and Robert E. Lee 


Author and Publisher: 
JOHN W^WAYLAND 
Harrisonburg, Va. 


Printers and Binders: 
THE McCLURE CO., Inc. 
Staunton, Va. 


Made in 


THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY 





Copyright, 1924 
By John W. Wayland 


in<\\ l\ 

Ja. 




A FOREWORD 


The Lower Shenandoah Valley was ex¬ 
plored and surveyed by George Washing¬ 
ton, and there, with old Winchester as head¬ 
quarters, he fought back the French and In¬ 
dians after the defeat of General Braddock 
at Fort D'uquesne in 1755. The Upper Val¬ 
ley was early the home of John Lewis, his 
celebrated sons, and their sturdy kindred of 
the clans; later, of Mattthew Fontaine 
Maury and Robert E. Lee. The whole Val¬ 
ley, from end to end and from mountain to 
mountain, was the stirring theatre of 
tragedy and valor in which Daniel Morgan 
and Stonewall Jackson, those thunderbolts 
of war, one in the Revolution, the other in 
the struggle between the States, played with 


consummate skill and deadly fervor. On the 
stage as actors with them were martial leg¬ 
ions—Sons of the Valley; watching and won¬ 
dering, a breathless audience, were the na¬ 
tions of the world. 

To tell the story of it all—and yet the 
half has not been told—John Esten Cooke 
and Mary Johnston have wrought in vibrant 
prose; Philip Pendleton Cooke, Daniel Bed- 
inger Lucas, Margaret Junkin Preston, and 
Sidney Lanier have sung in potent verse; 
painters have given life to colors and sculp¬ 
tors have loosened tongues in stone; and 
Nature, as a mother in guarding love, has 
heaped up the mountains, tinted the skies, 
replenished the waters, and lit the stars with 
glory. 


“As the stars and the angels stopped singing to look and to listen, they saw a great rock 
in the mountain wall split in twain and fall asunder, and through the deep opening the 
waters of the lake began to pour out and to rush towards the sea.” 


Harper's Ferry, standing at one of Na¬ 
ture’s great gates to the Shenandoah Valley, 
is remarkable in its history, charming in its 
reminders of Old-World strongholds, and 
wonderful in its geography and geology. 
Situated on the rocky headland that wedges 
down between the Shenandoah and the Po¬ 
tomac at their confluence, it is both strategic 
and picturesque. The old rock walls cling¬ 
ing against the steep hillsides and rising tier 
above tier make one think of ancient towns 
and towers far across the sea. 


Three states here almost join hands. 
Within a stone’s cast Virginia, West Vir¬ 
ginia, and Maryland share in the glory of 
the mountains and the music of the waters. 
Loudoun Heights, Bolivar Heights, and 
Maryland Heights crown the scene with ma¬ 
jesty and history. 

Passing down Washington Street, one 
leaves Jefferson’s Rock far up to the right 
and conies into the ravine at the rivers near 
the site of John Brown’s Fort. There the 
auto highways and the railways converge 
and leap the rivers at their confluence. 


“To pass there is but scanty room, 

Where foaming waters splash and boom.” 


Tablets in conspicuous positions tell of 
the capture of Harper’s Ferry by Stonewall 
Jackson in September, 1862, just in time to 
enable him to lead his veterans across the 


Potomac to the bloody hills of Sharpsburg 
and Antietam. 

It seems probable that the Shenandoah 
Valley was once a lake which burst its rock 
walls at Harper’s Ferry. 



Looking Down Washington Street, Harper's Ferry 













“Yes, they called him ‘Crazy Rumsey,’ 
And they thought that he was dead, 
But his dreams are floating cities, 

And we follow where he led.” 


A hundred feet above the level of the Po¬ 
tomac, at Shepherdstown, W. Va., stands 
the tall shaft that tells the world of James 
Rumsey, one of the early makers of steam¬ 
boats. In December, 1787, he ran his won¬ 
derful little boat against the current of the 
river, around the picturesque Horseshoe 
Bend, while admiring multitudes scrambled 
along the rugged shores in breathless eager¬ 
ness. 

This was twenty years before Robert 
Fulton’s Clermont ran on the Hudson. To 
both of these men poverty and incredulity 
were millstones for many years; to one of 
them Fate at last was kind, but to the other 
the years brought only disappointment to 
darken the face of promise. More than once 


in America and in Europe his dreams seemed 
on the point of coming true, but death inter¬ 
posed and cut short his work. He died in 
London in 1792. 

In 1839 the legislature of Kentucky pre¬ 
sented a gold medal to Rumsey’s son in token 
of its appreciation of the inventor’s services; 
and within recent years this towering shaft 
has been raised to his memory on the banks 
of the Potomac, where, in the meager years 
of long ago, the dreamer paced back and 
forth, while a great vision was striving in 
his soul for birth. 

In the library of Shepherd College, at 
Shepherdstown, is a fine collection of books 
and other sources of information regarding 
Rumsey and his work. 






Rumsey Monument, Shepherdstown, W. Va. 











“For Old Brown, 

Osawatomie Brown, 

Mad as he was, knew texts enough to wear a parson’s gown.” 


In 1859 and 1922, as well as at other 
times, this old brick court house at Charles 
Town, Jefferson County, West Virginia, has 
been the theatre of stirring scenes. When 
John Brown was tried therein the country 
was stirred from end to end; and when re¬ 
cently the mine men of the western regions 
of the state were on trial in the same old 
building the interest of the country at large 
was hardly less intense. 

Charles Town, named, it is said, in honor 
of Charles Washington, is the prosperous 
center of a rich and beautiful farming dis¬ 
trict. The charm of the landscape is en¬ 
hanced by song and story. For generations 


the region has been historic. Different mem¬ 
bers of the Washington family have been 
residents of the community; Horatio Gates 
and Charles Lee were nearby neighbors; the 
Darkes and the Bedingers lived not far 
away. At Harewood, only a mile or two 
outside the town, Dolly Payne Todd became 
the wife of James Madison. 

Moreover, Charles Town and the district 
thereabouts has not lacked sons and daugh¬ 
ters to chant its praises. The gift of song 
seems native to the soil. ’Tis a land to in¬ 
spire dreaming. Poets, writers of history, 
soldiers, and jurists have given it charm and 
distinction. To paraphrase one of them, 


“They’ve swept across the field of Mars 
And bowed to fame amid the stars.” 

St. Hilda’s Hall, a high class school for Charles Town. The B. & O. and the N. & W. 

girls, is one of the cultural attractions of railways make the town easily accessible. 



Old Court House, Charles Town, W. Va. 
















'A softer glow on hill and stream— 
Within my soul a hush: 

A breath, a whisper, and a dream.” 


White Post and Greenway Court, in the 
southwest corner of Clark County, are names 
to conjure with. For generations they have 
been known in song and story. In the days 
when the wilderness wanderer needed the 
sign on the white post to find his way to 
Greenway Court, that far retreat may have 
been a Lethe for disappointed love. Soon it 
became the open door to fame for the young 
surveyor from Tidewater. Shortly there¬ 
after Braddock and his ill-fated veterans re¬ 
joiced for a brief season in its hospitality. 

Almost the only structure that remains 
at Greenway Court today to recall to us the 


times of Washington is the ancient stone 
“Office.” In this building it is probable that 
the young surveyor and his employer, Lord 
Fairfax, would confer with the land-buyers 
of colonial days. There the maps and the 
surveying instruments were presumably 
kept. And it bids fair to stand another cen¬ 
tury or two as a reminder of fruitful, though 
strenuous, years. 

In October, 1853, Washington Irving 
paid a visit to Greenway Court and wrote 
about it in his charming style. More than 
one novelist and poet has found here rich 
traditions of the past. 



Washington Office at Greenway Court 












“Sunlight glints among the shadows, 
Youth and beauty tune their lays, 
Whispers of a sweet enchantment 
Wake again heroic days.” 


Shortly after the defeat of General Brad- 
dock’s army near Fort Duquesne in 1755, 
George Washington, charged with the de¬ 
fence of the Virginia frontier, directed the 
construction at Winchester of an elaborate 
stronghold which was named Fort Lou¬ 
doun. During the period when the fort was 
building the young commander had his head¬ 
quarters in the old stone cabin now pointed 
out to visitors at the corner of Braddock 
Street and Cork. 

On the hill, as shown in the picture op¬ 
posite, remains of old Fort Loudoun may 
still be plainly seen. The high embankment, 
to the reader’s right, is a portion of the wall 
or terrace of the fortress. Farther up on the 


hill is the well of the fort, blasted down 
through solid rock. 

The hill is crowned today with an insti¬ 
tution of learning, Fort Loudoun Seminary, 
in which the fine traditions of Virginia’s past 
are well preserved in vital allegiance with 
her growing present. A visit to Fort Lou¬ 
doun gives one an experience that is alto¬ 
gether charming, whether he is on the trail 
of the historic years or whether he is chiefly 
mindful of a gracious hospitality. 

Not far from Fort Loudoun are Stone¬ 
wall Jackson’s headquarters, the Hand- 
ley Library, Sheridan’s headquarters, the 
Friends’ meeting house, and other places of 
interest. 





m r ‘ -- m *• 


"(J 

m 

yw ir_ « V 



■ 1 


Daughters of Virginia at Old Fort Loudoun, Winchester 








“Who that once sees the glories of these hills, 

Sun-kissed or wrapped in cloud, and does not raise 
His eyes in adoration, and from out 

Full heart pour forth a silent song of praise? 


The Massanutten is a mountain of infinite 
variety. From either side—from either 
Shenandoah County or Page County—its 
fifty miles of length appear to the eye almost 
as a single range or ridge. From east or 
west in Rockingham the southwest end of 
the range seems to drop off like some giant 
had shorn it with his battleaxe. From the 
summit of the same promontory one looks 
down deep into a huge basin known as “The 
Kettle.” 

At the northeast end, at Strasburg, one 
sees again only a single range, shorn down 
suddenly and abruptly. From Front Royal 
and Riverton, on the east side, the appear¬ 
ance of the mountain end is somewhat simi¬ 
lar, but one there gets a suggestion of a dou¬ 
ble or a triple range. And halfway between 
Front Royal and Strasburg, in the vicinity of 
Middletown and Cedar Creek battlefield, one 


sees clearly the bold outlines of three moun¬ 
tains, side by side: rather of two, side by 
side, enclosing the historic “Fort,” and the 
third standing guard in the iron gate. 

When one approaches nearer to the 
mountain from Middletown, and reaches the 
vicinity of Water Lick, on the Southern Rail¬ 
way, the triple peaks rise up boldly before 
him. The “Three Sisters” are veritably 
three giants, grim, silent, and rugged, but at 
the same time beautiful and hospitable. 

Their cool shades and Arcadian dells in¬ 
vite one to quiet and to dreams. One enters 
to stay for a summer’s afternoon, and goes 
reluctantly out at dusk wishing to command 
the years. 

For additional facts concerning this reg¬ 
ion, so rich in natural and human interest, 
see Wayland’s Scenic and Historical Guide 
to the Shenandoah Valley, pages 61 and 62. 



Road to Powell's Fort, Near Water Lick 
The “Three Sisters” 








“Boughs and branches interlacing, 
By the winds are tuned a lyre; 
Minor strains awake the silence 
In the ruined path of fire.” 


Where the Valley Pike crosses Cedar 
Creek, midway between Strasburg and Mid¬ 
dletown, stands one of the best known land¬ 
marks of the whole Valley. The massive 
ruined walls of the old Stickley mill for sixty 
years have been a mute but eloquent witness 
of the “Burning” that devastated the Valley 
from Staunton to Winchester in October, 
1864. It was near this point that Sheridan’s 
army was thrown into confusion by the early 
morning surprise attack two weeks later in 
that same October—the fiery prelude to the 
celebrated battle of Cedar Creek. 

In the half century and more that has 
passed since the “Burning” tall trees have 
grown up where the mill wheels turned in 


the long ago; but the dismantled walls stand 
as firmly as of yore and give promise of ro¬ 
mance and picturesque beauty to generations 
yet unborn. 

Cedar Creek, where the Pike crosses, pre¬ 
sents scenes of wild beauty that can hardly 
be surpassed. In the summer, when the 
branches of the trees, heavy with green 
leaves, form sun-pierced arches across the 
stream, or in the autumn when the tints of 
gold and purple seem to glint upon the wat¬ 
ers, the pausing traveler may find delight for 
an hour or a day. At many places along its 
tortuous course from the Alleghanies on the 
west to the sparkling Shenandoah, Cedar 
Creek is bordered with idyllic and arcadian 
beauty. 



A Relic of “The Burning”—Stickley Mill, Cedar Creek 

















“A village sheltered from the storms 
Lies smiling in the sun; 

The mountains stand as sentinels, 
While years unceasing run.” 


Half way up the gentle slopes of Chester 
Gap, crossing the Blue Ridge from Front 
Royal, one passes the U. S. Government Re¬ 
mount Station. The automobile highway 
winds up the hollow, near the busy little 
stream of water, through the midst of the 
extensive tracts of land belonging to the 
Station; and the buildings are in plain sight 
from the road. Two wide entrances make 
access easy and inviting. 

J o 

Here in this Alpine landscape is a center 
of metropolitan activity. Architectural skill 
and scientific equipment carry out the sug¬ 
gestions of a bountiful and provident Nature. 
Hundreds of excellent horses, some in the 
comfortable stables, others on the spacious 


hillside pastures, attract the visitor’s interest 
and admiration. 

The highway through Chester Gap leads 
to Culpeper, Warrenton, and other towns of 
eastern Virginia. Just across the summit of 
the mountain are the beautiful landscapes 
and hospitable homesteads of Rappahan¬ 
nock. Flint Hill, Washington, Sperryville, 
and other towns in this region are easily ac¬ 
cessible. 

The Chester Gap route is one of the easi¬ 
est grades across the Blue Ridge, and at the 
same time one of the most attractive sceni- 
cally. In the summer of 1863 General Lee’s 
army crossed into the Valley by Chester 
Gap, on its way northward into Maryland 
and Pennsylvania. 



U. S. Government Remount Station, Chester Gap, Blue Ridge 







“If the Valley had a voice would it speak? 

Would it tell of Boone and Jackson? Would it seek 
Out its own unending glory— 

All the matchless epic story— 

If the Valley had a voice?” 


At more than one place in the Shenan¬ 
doah Valley the voices of history—of ro¬ 
mance, of tragedy, of sentiment—seem ready 
to break out of the silences with a story of 
thrilling interest. 

Fisher’s Hill, in Shenandoah County, is 
one of the places long celebrated. One of 
the noted landmarks of the Valley, its rug¬ 
ged outlines on the landscape are enhanced 
by the associations of the years. From the 
days of earliest settlement it has been known 
by all who have followed the “Long Gray 
Trail” in either direction. In the days of 
the Civil War it was a strategic position 
eagerly sought for by the contending armies. 
More than one bloody encounter gave stir¬ 
ring echoes to the woodland heights. 


Since the days of automobiles on the Val¬ 
ley Pike, more fatal accidents have occurred 
at Fisher’s Hill than at any other place in 
the whole range of the Valley. The narrow 
bridge spanning Tumbling Run at the foot 
of the hill was more than once the scene of 
tragedy. 

Within the last year or two a new road, 
open to the sunshine, has been cut around 
the southeast side of the hill, and dangers 
have been much reduced. A wide concrete 
bridge on a straight slope has taken the place 
of the narrow bridge at the fatal curve. 

The annual picnic at Fisher’s Hill, in 
which the deeds of the “Boys who wore the 
Gray” are revived and celebrated, is one of 
the Valley’s outstanding social occasions. 


/ 



The New Road up Fisher’s Hill 






















‘And there was tumult in the air, 

The fife’s shrill note, the drum’s loud beat.' 


The limestone court house at Woodstock, 
Shenandoah County, is one of the most fa¬ 
miliar landmarks in the Valley. Built in 
1791, while Washington was President, it is 
by far the oldest court house in the Valley, 
and it has witnessed scenes of historic in¬ 
terest in many generations. 

Near this spot in 1776 Muhlenberg, priest 
and warrior, marshalled the men of his con¬ 
gregation for service in the Revolution. In 
the War of 1812 and in the Mexican War 
the court house green was a rallying place 
for armed men. During the Civil War the 
tides of march and battle surged around 


these self-same walls. The Valley Pike, 
which passes just in front of the old build¬ 
ing, was “Stonewall Jackson’s Way”; and it 
was at this very spot, according to tradition, 
that Jackson made Turner Ashby, “The 
Knight of the Valley,” a brigadier-general, 
following one of his chivalrous exploits, 
which was performed only a short distance 
away. 

The County was first established in 1772, 
and named “D'unmore,” in honor of the royal 
governor; but in 1777 the name was changed 
to “Shenandoah,” the beautiful Indian name 
which it has borne ever since. 



Old Limestone Court House at Woodstock 


























“Hard by the highway, hard by the town, 
Firm on the hillcrest, looking down, 
Towers of learning, towers of grace, 
Stand four-square to the morning’s face.” 


Massanutten Military Academy stands 
beside the Valley Turnpike just at the south 
west border of historic old Woodstock. The 
buildings are familiar landmarks to all who 
travel the “Long Gray Trail.” 

The Academy had its beginning in the 
old house that was formerly the home of U. 
S. Senator H. H. Riddleberger. This old 
building, constructed in the hospitable style 
of ante-bellum days, is still a part of the 
school group, and may be seen plainly from 
the road, being only a few rods distant, on 
the west side of the street. 


In Indian days the settlers had a fort at 
Woodstock, and many tragic incidents 
marked the converging paths of flight when 
the messengers of alarm hurried through the 
Valley. Narrow Passage, three miles south¬ 
west of the Academy, was the scene of more 
than one desperate struggle in those pioneer 
days. 

The little church in which young Pastor 
Muhlenberg preached his farewell sermon, 
and from which he issued his clarion call to 
arms, stood on the east side of the Pike, al¬ 
most opposite the site of the old stone court 
house. 


“Within its shades of elm and oak 

The church of Berkeley Manor stood; 
There Sunday found the rural folk, 

And some esteemed of gentle blood.” 



Massanutten Military Academy, Woodstock—Old Riddleberger Home 


















“He guards day and night our green valley; 
For Nature who made it so fair, 

Grew alarmed for her beautiful treasure, 
And placed him as sentinel there.” 


Rising out of the plain with the abrupt¬ 
ness and almost the very outlines of Gibral¬ 
tar, the southwest end of Massanutten 
Mountain cuts the skyline of East Rocking¬ 
ham with boldnes and majesty. It is a con¬ 
spicuous and beautiful landmark in a circle 
of many miles, and the view from its craggy 
summit reminds one of that from Lookout 
Mountain at Chattanooga. 

“Peaked Mountain,” as it is called locally, 
was doubtless a famous altar of Indian fires 
in prehistoric days. During the Civil War 
it served as a signal station to Blue and 
Gray. Almost opposite, in the Blue Ridge, 


is Swift Run Gap where Spotswood and the 
Knights of the Horseshoe came over in 
1716. Nearby is the summer resort where 
Sidney Lanier wrote his Science of English 
Verse in 1879; and in the plains below are 
the battlefields of Harrisonburg, Cross Keys, 
and Port Republic. 

Near Swift Run Gap, in the Blue Ridge, 
is the beautiful Cedar Cliff waterfall. In the 
spring of the year, when the snows of the 
mountain-tops flush the streams, the fall can 
often be seen from many points in the Val¬ 
ley, as it describes a graceful arc in the sun¬ 
light. 



Peaked Mountain,” From East Rockingham 




“Adown sweet Linville’s vale today 
Careless I wandered on my way, 
Forgetful of the past.” 


In or before the year 1768 John Lincoln 
came from Pennsylvania into the Shenan¬ 
doah Valley of Virginia and purchased a 
large tract of land on Linville Creek. There 
he and his posterity established themselves 
in thrift and prosperity. 

In or about the year 1800 his son, Captain 
Jacob Lincoln, a soldier of the Revolution, 
erected at the old homestead the spacious 
brick house shown in the picture opposite. 
A number of years earlier, Captain Abraham 
Lincoln, oldest son of “Virginia John,” had 
gone from this place to Kentucky. He was 
the grandfather of Abraham, the President. 

John, Abraham, and Jacob have been fav¬ 
orite names with the Lincolns for many 


generations. In Rockingham County today, 
where the Lincolns are still numerous, the 
names are familiar. Abraham, a son of Cap¬ 
tain Jacob, added an extensive “L” to the 
ancestral dwelling, but it does not at all ap¬ 
pear in the photograph. 

Near the Lincolns on Linville Creek 
lived the Bryans. It was one of the Bryan 
girls that young Daniel Boone married 
shortly after his sojourn in this part of the 
Shenandoah Valley. The old road across the 
Valley, from Brock’s Gap to Port Republic, 
by which General Washington passed in 
1784, crosses Linville Creek only a short 
distance from the old Lincoln homestead. 



1 


r 


Old Lincoln Homestead, Near Harrisonburg 












“Fair on yon mountain gleams the light of morning skies, 
Firm on yon hillcrest blue stone towers rise.” 


Every one who passes along the Valley 
Turnpike admires the group of massive 
buildings at the southwest border of Har¬ 
risonburg, which comprises the dormitories, 
lecture halls, and service plants of the State 
Teachers College. Constructed of the native 
blue limestone, these buildings give an im¬ 
pression of fitness, order, and quiet strength. 

The institution was first opened to stu¬ 
dents in the fall of 1909. During the regular 
sessions from September to June women on¬ 
ly have been admitted as students, but dur¬ 
ing the summer quarters men also have been 
enrolled. In 1924 the state legislature passed 
an act changing the name from “normal 
school” to “teachers college,” and steps were 
at once undertaken to enlarge and enrich the 
various courses of instruction, correspond¬ 
ingly. 


The names of the buildings at “Blue- 
Stone Hill,” as the school is affectionately 
called by its alumnae, have been chosen 
mainly in honor of great Virginians who 
have been closely identified with the Shen¬ 
andoah Valley. “Spotswood Hall,” “Ashby 
Hall,” “Jackson Hall,” “Maury Hall,” and 
“Harrison Hall” are illustrations in point. 
The last named commemorates Gessner Har¬ 
rison, a native son of Harrisonburg. 

“Cleveland Cottage” honors the memory 
of Miss Annie Cleveland, one of the first 
teachers, whose life was a benediction and 
whose death in 1916 was an irreparable loss. 

Sheldon Hall and Carter Hall bear the 
names of American leaders in the training of 
teachers. Alumnae Hall is a monument to 
the devotion and loyalty of the daughters of 
the institution. 



South Range, State Teachers College, Harrisonburg 
























“Co-operation and courtesy are the open doors to opportunity; they combine the charm 
of the past, the energy of the present, and the promise of the future.” 


The people of the Shenandoah Valley are 
a composite of fine race elements: The 
sturdy Scotch-Irish, the thrifty Germans, 
the liberty-loving Swiss, the liberty-building 
English, the gallant French, and the frugal, 
persistent Dutch. They embody many re¬ 
ligious creeds, and their prosperity is pro¬ 
verbial. Optimism and success are taken as 
matters of course. 

The good will and co-operative spirit of 
the dozen or more great counties of the 
Shenandoah Valley, in Virginia and West 
Virginia, are in nothing better shown than 
in the provisions they have made to give in¬ 
formation and assistance to all who come 
among them, either for pleasure or for busi¬ 
ness. A great organization has been formed 
and it has been incorporated under the laws 
of the State to be of material aid in social, 


educational, agricultural, and industrial en¬ 
terprise. 

The Shenandoah Valley, Inc., has head¬ 
quarters offices in the historic old Neff home 
in Harrisonburg. Guests are always wel¬ 
come, and information about the Valley and 
its resources is cheerfully given. 

The house shown in the picture opposite 
was for many years the home of Dr. John 
H. Neff, a distinguished and beloved physi¬ 
cian of Harrisonburg. He was a cousin to 
Colonel John Francis Neff, the youngest 
regimental commander of the famous Stone¬ 
wall Brigade. His brother, Captain Jacob 
G. Neff of Mt. Jackson, another gallant Con¬ 
federate, was for years president of the Val¬ 
ley Turnpike Company. The ancestral 
Neffs came, it is said, from Switzerland. 



The Neff House, Harrisonburg 























“Here Shenandoah brawls along, 

There burly Blue Ridge echoes strong, 
To swell the brigade’s rousing song 
Of Stonewall Jackson’s way.” 


On June 9, 1862, Stonewall Jackson met 
the Federal general, James Shields, on the 
Shenandoah River flats and in the foothills 
of the Blue Ridge, two miles below the vil¬ 
lage of Port Republic, Rockingham County, 
Virginia, and after a hard-fought battle 
drove him back down the Valley. 

This battle was the bloody climax to the 
spectacular “Valley Campaign,” in which 
Jackson’s “foot cavalry” won imperishable 
renown. 

The picture on the opposite page was 
taken from the battlefield foothills of the 
Blue Ridge and looks across the river plain 
to the “Peaked Mountain” (Massanutten), 


distant about six miles. The course of the 
river is shown by the dark line of trees that 
runs across the center of the view from left 
to right. 

The mountains in the distance at the left 
are the first ranges of the Alleghanies. 

The battlefield of Cross Keys, which was 
baptized in blood on the preceding day (June 
8, 1862), lies slightly to the left, beyond the 
river. 

Three days before the battle of Port Re¬ 
public, General Turner Ashby, Jackson’s in¬ 
trepid cavalry leader, was killed near Har¬ 
risonburg, eleven miles north of Port Re¬ 
public. 



Port Republic Battlefield, Looking Toward “Peaked Mountain” 





“Builded in stone, the eye may see it; 

Builded in memories, the pen hath recorded it; 
Builded in life, the years shall enlarge it.” 


Nowhere along the whole length of the 
Valley Pike is a landmark more familiar or 
more cherished than Augusta Stone Church, 
at Fort Defiance. Indeed, it is quite prob¬ 
able that this selfsame church was the origi¬ 
nal “fort”; for it was constructed in pioneer 
days, and for many years the worshipers 
carried their rifles to its altars and the people 
of the neighborhood fled to it as a strong¬ 
hold in times of alarm. 

On January 22, 1749, it is said, this old 
church was first dedicated. On January 22, 
1922, it was rededicated, with the various 
extensions and modifications of the structure 


that the visitor now may see. The native 
limestone serves its purpose well, both for 
strength and for beauty. The ancient oaks 
that surround the building are a fitting ac¬ 
companiment. The families of the com¬ 
munity are, in many cases, the descendants 
of the original founders. 

The cemetery near the Old Stone Church 
is full of interest to the antiquarian. It is 
one of the best kept country graveyards to 
be found anywhere. 

A quarter of a mile up the Pike from the 
church is the historic “Willow Spout.” For 
many generations it has been a well known 
landmark to resident and to traveler. 





Old Augusta Stone Church, Fort Defiance 















“Out of the Valley they send us men, 
Fit for the cry of the living need; 
Strong with the purpose to bring again 
A clearer vision and nobler deed.” 


In the city of Staunton, at the corner of 
Coalter Street and Frederick, stands the 
brick house in which on December 28, 1856, 
was born Woodrow Wilson. His father, 
Rev. Joseph R. Wilson, was a Presbyterian 
pastor, and the house is still the Manse of 
the First Presbyterian Church. A tablet in¬ 
forms the passer-by of its unique distinction. 

On the occasion of Wilson’s “home-com¬ 
ing,” on his birthday following his election 
as President in 1912, he slept in this house, 
in the same room in which he had been born 
fifty-six years before. 

Not far away is Mary Baldwin Semi¬ 
nary, the well known women’s college, 
where many cherished associations of the 
Wilsons are lovingly preserved. 


Wilson came of the sturdy Scotch-Irish 
stock with which Augusta County and ad¬ 
jacent regions were peopled in the days when 
it took men (and women too) to lay the 
foundations of a world power in the wilder¬ 
ness. In 1732 old John Lewis and his sons 
led the clans into the shadows of Betsy Bell 
and Mary Gray, and there they began to 
build, slowly, painfully, but surely, and bet¬ 
ter than they knew. 

Staunton is at the gateways to the West. 
Here roads and railroads cross, and whether 
one wishes to go south to Lexington and 
Roanoke, north to Harrisonburg and Win¬ 
chester, east to Charlotttesville and Rich¬ 
mond, or west to Monterey, Warm Springs, 
Hot Springs, or Clifton Forge, Staunton 
holds the key and points the way. 



Birthplace of Woodrow Wilson, Staunton 







































“When winds of dawn on the Virginia hills 
Move whispering through the trees, and from the dark 
Are born the flowers of the morning, pure, 

Seems all my soul to hush and grow aware 
Of a Presence half-expected there.” 


Washington and Lee University, at Lex¬ 
ington, Virginia, is beautiful for situation 
and historic association. Endowed by 
George Washington with name and wealth, 
re-endowed by Robert E. Lee with name and 
wealth—wealth of tradition and influence, if 
not wealth material—it has become estab¬ 
lished in the minds and hearts of men far 
and near. Fortunate in its faculties and in 
its alumni, it has gone forward from strength 
to strength. 

On the same commanding hill, gate to 
gate and face to face, Washington and Lee 
University and Virginia Military Institute 
are both eminent in the fields of learning and 
achievement. Illuminated with the memo¬ 


ries of Robert Lee, Custis Lee, Washing¬ 
ton, Stonewall Jackson, Matthew Fontaine 
Maury, and William Lyne Wilson, they 
shine with perennial splendor. 

In the picture opposite may be seen the 
well known landmark familiarly called 
“House Mountain.” It towers out of the 
hills about five miles west of Lexington, and 
is cherished in the thought and memory of 
every loyal son of Rockbridge County. 

The great Natural Bridge, from which 
the county takes its name, is fourteen miles 
southwest of Lexington, the county-seat. 
In the town cemetery may be found the 
graves of General Pendleton, Lee’s chief of 
artillery, and Margaret Junkin Preston, one 
of the greater Southern poets. 







Bird's-Eye View of W. and L. and House Mountain 











“As there I stand, I feel His presence pass 
And brush my cheek with the eloquence of love 
That does not need to speak.” 


To Thomas Jefferson a possession, to 
George Washington a challenge, to James 
Piper an inspiration, to all the world a won¬ 
der, the Natural Bridge is one of Nature’s 
great masterpieces, a miracle in stone. 

Spanning a deep canon through which a 
brook winds its tortuous way, the crown of 
the massive arch leaps the chasm 200 feet 
above the stream. The span of the arch is 
fifty to sixty feet, and the thickness of the 
crown is about forty feet. By means of this 
bridge a highway crosses the canon, and so 
well is the wonder concealed by rocks and 


trees that a hundred strangers might pass 
over in a summer’s day without ever dream¬ 
ing of the marvel beneath their feet. 

It supplies a fitting name for the sur¬ 
rounding county—Rockbridge—and is only 
fourteen miles south of historic Lexington, 
the county-seat. 

From Rockbridge County many sons 
have gone out to fame, among them Sam 
Houston, “Big-Foot” Wallace, and Cyrus 
Hall McCormick. 

Spacious hotels at Natural Bridge pro¬ 
vide entertainment for guests and visitors. 



The Natural Bridge, Near Lexington 







“For knowledge and for play, 
To spend a summer’s day. 
We’ll hie with ready will 
To the haunts of Gypsy Hill.” 


Just at the northwest border of the city 
of Staunton, on the Churchville Road, one 
comes to the attractive entrance of Gypsy 
Hill Park. The ample gates invite the sum¬ 
mer throngs to recreation and pleasure, and 
all the year round the park is a place of in¬ 
terest and instruction. Trees, plants, ani¬ 
mals, and landscape combine to teach and to 
delight. Various provisions are made for 
the entertainment and amusement of young 
and old. 

As one mounts to the higher elevations 
of Gypsy Hill he can look across the city 
towards the southeast and see the wooded 
sides and summits of the twin hills, Betsy 
Bell and Mary Gray, named, it is said, from 
two famous hills in County Tyrone, Ireland, 
where the Augusta pioneers had sojourned 
before coming to the New World. 

Staunton is replete with history and is 


surrounded on all sides with historic scenes. 
John Lewis and his sons, who settled in the 
vicinity in 1732, with their descendants and 
their friends, played a conspicuous part in 
the early dramas of America. Here the 
frontiersmen rallied for the campaign in 
Dunmore’s War aaginst the Shawnees. 
Here the legislature of Virginia assembled 
after Tarleton had routed them from Char¬ 
lottesville towards the end of the Revolu¬ 
tion. Here Stonewall Jackson paused unex¬ 
pectedly in one of his stages of rapid advance 
upon the Boys in Blue at McDowell in 1862; 
and here the great American and world 
statesman, Woodrow Wilson, was born in 
1856. 

Waddell’s Annals of Augusta and John 
Lewis Peyton’s History of Augusta County 
are thrilling narratives of great events and 
great men. 



Entrance to Gypsy Hill Park, Staunton 

















“Looking towards the morning and the hills of dawn. 
Trees and towers cluster on the sacred lawn, 

And amid the voices raised in song and prayer, 
Move the valiant spirits shrined in memories fair.” 


One of the historic buildings of historic 
Staunton is old Trinity Church, the spacious 
grounds of which were originally deeded to 
John Madison, father of Bishop James Mad¬ 
ison, for six pounds. 

In June, 1781, the legislature of Virginia, 
with Governor Thomas Jefferson, having 
been chased out of Charlottesville by the 
British under Tarleton, crossed the Blue 
Ridge and met at Staunton in Trinity 
Church. There an important session of 
about three weeks was held. Patrick Henry 
and Daniel Boone were among the mem¬ 
bers of the Assembly at this time. Their 


names, with those of their colleagues, may 
be read today on the tablet just inside the 
church yard gate. 

The present beautiful church building, 
the third upon the site, dates from 1850. The 
first structure, in which the Revolutionary 
Assembly met, was a brick building 25 by 40 
feet, and stood on the spot occupied by the 
tower of the present church. 

The appointments of the parish house 
and other auxiliary structures on the church 
lawn are most convenient and complete. The 
whole arrangement embodies a happy com¬ 
bination of the old and the new. 



Trinity Church, Staunton, Va 




























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